Ghosts of the Future
by by xandria
Summary: John grewup knowing every person could be someone sent to kill him-every stranger suspect. Sarah&Cameron protect him but when a stranger from the future claims to be on a mission to protect him from a new threat-can they trust her? or is she the threat?
1. Chapter 1

Ghosts of the Future

Terminator; The Sarah Connor Chronicles.

_SYNOPSIS_;

_No where is safe. As the future leader of the human resistance, Johns' grown up with the knowledge that every person around him could be someone sent to kill him, every stranger is suspect. Until now Sarah, Cameron and Derek have been able to protect him, but when someone shows up claiming to be a resistance fighter sent back to save John from a new terminator more deadly then those before, can they trust them? And will John's life be the cost if they don't?_

_WORDS OF WARNING and DICLAIMER:_

_I do not own the Terminator universe; the characters and concepts, etc. are the result of much more creative minds and brought into living Technicolor by the wonderful people at fox. This fic deals with some adult themes and content and is not for young readers, that said, please read at your own discretion.  
_

_NOTES: _

_Ever had a plot line that just won't get out of your head? Well I did and it became this, the first fic I've written for Terminator: SCC. I have no immediate plans to write more, but if you like it I can always be persuaded by comments! This is a stand alone story, short chapters for a quick sweet read, but is a work in progress. (now complete)_

_Enjoy and Please Comment!_

Okay, forage into fan fiction! Here we go....

_-------------------------------------------_

Ghosts of the Future; Ch. 1

………………

"You might want to be more careful about what you shout to the world," the girl said, dark curling hair falling in waves as she held out a blood spattered hand to pull him to his feet. She looked him over, eyes assessing the slashed arm that was guarding what was probably a few cracked ribs, before turning away from him and pulling a knife from her boot, adjusting the gun at her belt.

"You've got 90 seconds until it reboots, I suggest you spend that time running."

"90 seconds? Make that 120 and I might believe that you weren't just trying to kill me too," he knelt, pocketknife flipping open as he searched for the small depression in the scalp that would indicate where the chip was hidden.

A hand grabbed his collar from behind, pulling him up and then quickly releasing the fabric when it began to tear as he pivoted on his heel, using the momentum to bring his elbow up brushing mere inches from where her face had been.

"Upgrade," she said never taking her eyes off the figure that lay as if dead on the ground, shiny metal showing beneath the blood of its wounds.

"You've got 70 seconds, John. Get moving."

…………………..

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The Day Before;

Afternoon;

Sometimes, if Sarah closed her eyes and stood still enough, she could almost convince herself that everything was all a dream. That it was all some horrible nightmare and when she opened her eyes again she'd see bright green trees and children playing in the sunshine. Her biggest worries would be if John was staying out too late with his friends, or having problems with a girl. There would be no terminators, no judgment day, no future beyond this very moment to worry about and she could finally rest…

"Mom? …Mom?"

Sarah opened her eyes, hands gripping the wheel as she turned around in the drivers' seat.

"The light's green…"

She sat there for a moment longer, just looking at her son, John. Hair cut short revealed sharp cheekbones beneath wary dark eyes that looked at her with skepticism. She could still see hints of the chubby baby cheeks and dimples in his face, but that was all that remained of the child he had been. He was still a boy but was having to grow so fast that she almost didn't recognize this guarded quiet youth he'd become.

He deserved better then to be forced into adulthood so fast…he deserved to have happy memories to keep him going in the years ahead, tarnished but beautiful visions of what he would be fighting for…he deserved everything. But the only future that she could offer him was one filled with hate, pain and horror that sent ripples back to haunt even his childhood. A future that sent death after him, hidden beneath flesh and metal in the guise of any one of hundreds of strangers that surrounded him every day.

A horn honked behind her, sounding loudly and making her jump.

"Shit." Sarah pulled out of the 5 minute parking zone in front of the school, wondering when the meaning behind the bumper sticker "best soccer-mom ever" had been replaced with "bitch".

"Are you okay?" John reached out, his hand briefly touching her shoulder before retreating in to the back seat. Cameron sat beside her, looking back and forth between her and John. Sometimes it gave her chills to think about how little the machines understood about human nature and yet were still able to destroy so many so easily.

"I'm fine. Did, um, did you have a good day at school?"

John gave her only silence from the backseat.

"We have a field trip tomorrow, you signed the forms last week," Cameron informed.

"Field trip? I don't remember signing anything about a field trip…John?"

"It's to the college conservatory, for science class. It's no big deal." He lapsed back into silence in the back seat.

"What about the forms?" she leaned forward, trying to catch his eyes in the rear view mirror but he only shrugged, not looking up from the small piece of metal turning over and over in his fingers.

"You said that we shouldn't miss any more school," Cameron offered. "That any more absences might make people ask questions."

"So you didn't even bother to tell me about it? To give me the forms?"

"Why? You signed them last week."

"I think they might actually have meant for her to sign them? As our mother, you know?" John said, changing positions so that he was leaning causally against the door and could see Cameron.

"I signed Sarah Baum."

"Well, that makes all the difference," Sarah, sighed giving up this particular argument. She could talk until the end of the world and Cameron still wouldn't understand some things. But as she watched the change in John, she thought maybe Cameron understood better then she did sometimes.

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Night;

John slouched on the couch, book open in his hands but he wasn't reading. He stared at the words on the page until they began to swirl and dance and he had to blink and look away. What use was this? He wasn't going to find the answers in F. Scott Fitzgerald or Attwood. And it wasn't as if there was a book out there titled; How to be A Resistance Leader for Dummies, or Ten Easy Ways to Prevent the End of the World.

So he put in his time. Skimmed the pages and walked the halls, getting a solid B average; high enough no one would take notice, but not so low as to make them ask questions. And he waited for it all to end, cause wait and run were all he could do.

And he was too tired to run tonight.

"You're still up?" his mother asked from behind him, and John turned around the top of his head barely visible above the back of the sofa.

"School tomorrow. And a field trip apparently. You should get some rest."

"Soon," he said, but she still stood watching him. Waiting.

"Soon, I promise," he lied. "I just want to get to the end of the chapter, there's a report due next week."

"Okay," she relented finally, already looking past him to where Cameron was making the nightly security check in the Kitchen. "Soon…"

John waited another twenty minutes, until the floorboards upstairs were silent and the light had been doused for a full ten, before flipping open his phone and dialing.

Ring…was it too late?

Ring…maybe she wouldn't even want to talk to him anyways….

Ring…he was being stupid.

"Hello?"

"Riley? Hey, it's John…um…how've you been?" lame even to his ears, but he couldn't just sit on the other end quietly breathing, she'd think he was a freak or something.

He waited while the silence stretched but there's wasn't a click on the line.

"Riley?"

"I'm pretty sure that this can't be John, cause you see, John and I went for a weekend in Mexico, where we were arrested, shot at, and then I was abandoned to make my way home. John wouldn't just call me up without something at least loosely resembling an explanation." Her voice sounded distant and flat, all the emotion that used to be in her smile, her glance, the way she said his name were pointedly absent in the disconnected voice on the other end of the phone.

"Riley…I'm sorry, that wasn't how I wanted the weekend to go. I never wanted you to be put in danger" …he never wanted her to be touched by this world, to be drawn into the death and destruction that he lived with day in, day out…Was it too much to just have one thing in this life that was free of it all?

"Just tell me what happened John."

"It's not like I don't' want to be able to tell you Riley!" John said, his voice rising before he remembered and dropped to a forceful whisper again. "I just….can't. Please."

"You don't tell me anything about you, about your family, then the first time we start to get close we end up being arrested and shot at and nearly killed, but you can't explain any of it to me? We're practically strangers even though I've seen you nearly every day for months. Who are you John?"

"Sometimes I don't know," he paused, but when he only got silence back from the other end of the phone he continued, the words welling up inside him and needing somewhere to go, someone to listen.

"It's like there's one person, the person who everyone thinks that I am or that I should be but I don't know how to be that person that they want….and then there's the person that I want to be, and God Riley, sometimes when I'm with you I can almost imagine that that's the only person that I am. That the world is only what I want it to be. But it's like they're at war and I'm the battleground and everyone I care about are casualties taking up sides, just waiting to be hurt…." He trailed off, eyes taking in the room but not really seeing it. "How do you choose between the future and your dreams?"

"You don't John," she said, voice soft and rich with all the feeling that had been missing before. "Your dreams can be your future."

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The Next Day;

Cameron bent over, examining the painted spheres that hung suspended from string and a coat hanger.

"The proportions are off," she said looking up. "Mars should be closer to the center." She reached out, pointing at a globe painted a red so bright it was almost neon with orange stripes.

"It's a second grade science display," John said in her ear, glancing nervously over her shoulder to see if anyone noticed them standing here like idiots apparently fascinated by Styrofoam and string. "Give them a break, they're like seven."

"So?"

"So," he said, stepping back and taking a deep breath as Cameron turned her arm brushing his, as she looked up at him, her body closer then a sister's should be. "They can't be expected to know everything, children grow, they learn. They're not pre-programmed with the all the knowledge of the world."

"Oh."

He stood there for a moment, watching Cameron examine the displays as if re-assessing them in light of the new information that children learn. He liked being able to share things with her that changed how she saw the world. It was like seeing it for the first time again only having someone to share it with. Cameron would always be there, always be on his side no matter what…not like people who came and went, or said one thing and did another; she was constant.

"Baum! Hurry up, we're breaking for lunch now," their teacher's voice sounded from ahead of them, frazzled and hectic as he tried to corral nearly forty students into some orderly formation to walk to the Student's Union Building.

Cameron immediately moved towards the door, but John hung back. He wasn't particularly eager to join the group and catch up on the latest gossip of who was dating who or if whatever school team was playing this weekend had a shot at nationals. He walked down the row of school projects, some sort of display about the knowledge of astronomy at different ages, watching as they became more advance and the painted Styrofoam turned into posters about solar flares and computer generated black holes in inner space.

"John?" Camerons' voice from behind him, it had gotten quiet as the rest of the class left.

"I'm not hungry, go ahead. There's something I want to check out."

"Mom said to keep an eye on you."

"Yeah, I bet she did," he sighed turning around. "Look, Cameron I'm just going to check out some stuff. This is the science building in one of the biggest colleges in the state, if there's information anywhere about who's working on AI and how close they're getting it's going to be here."

"Then I'll come with you," Cameron shut the door and started walking back but John met her half way and caught her arms forcing her to stop, his fingers brushing skin so warm it was almost human…

"No, it'll look too suspicious if we both take off, this way if anyone notices I'm gone you can say that I forgot something, or went looking for a washroom. It's only 40 minutes and then I'll meet you right back here before the tour of the conservatory. Okay?"

"Right here," Cameron confirmed.

He nodded and let go of her shoulders as she stepped back and left, the door swinging shut behind her.

John slipped through the security door, pocketing the magnetized swipe card in his jeans before creeping down the hallway, sneakers making no noise on the tile floor. He paused at the first door, leaning closer and stealing a glance through the window….damn, at least five people sat working in the room and with the terminals lined up in neat rows, no way he could sneak in unnoticed.

Slowly he worked his way down the hall, checking room after room but each was either full of people like the first or didn't have a direct network link to work from. The building was set up with wireless but generally computer programmers tended to be so paranoid that it would take too long and be too risky to try and use it to gain information.

John was nearly half way to the fire door on the other side of the building when suddenly he heard a click from behind and a door opened, briefly admitting the sounds of laughter and uproar from inside one of the rooms. Frantically he lunged for the nearest door to get out of sight, but the handle stuck in his hand, refusing to open.

"Back in a…hey, are you supposed to be down here?" a male voice sounded from behind him, far too close to make a run for it, anyways that would only arose suspicion. John hiked his backpack higher on his shoulder, turning while plastering a mix of fear and boredom on his face that only a teenager could pull off.

"I was just looking for a washroom," he offered, falling back on the lie he'd told Cameron to tell. "My class is touring the conservatory for science, I thought I saw a sign for one down here somewhere…" he pretended to look around, examining the doors on either side of him as if he didn't already know that all they contained was graduate student's offices and computer labs.

"Sorry bud," the guy said: "I'm afraid there's not much of anything down here but outdated computers and even more outdated professors!…how'd you get past the swipe card reader at the door anyways?"

"oh, was there a card lock?" John asked innocently, "It was propped open when I came down."

The guy rolled his eyes, frowning in indulgence. "Some of the guys like to just block it open with a book or something when they run out for coffee… nearest shop is next door in the cafeteria. I suppose that's where you class is?"

"Probably," John tried to fake a relieved laugh, but only half succeeded in a tilted smile that he was fairly certain wasn't at all reassuring.

"Why don't I walk you over there? Wouldn't want you to get lost again and I have to be sure the door's closed anyways."

"Why?" John asked jokingly, "have you got the next big computer breakthrough down here? Crack the secret to Artificial Intelligence or something?"

The student paused, looking more closely at John. "You interested in computers?"

"Sort of…" he mumbled, "anything's better then being stuck reading poetry or conjugating Spanish verbs right?"

He laughed, smiling as he gestured for John to come with him back up the hall. "You got that right! But I'm sorry to tell you there's nothing that exciting going on, just some plain old programming hours being logged. The Prof's like to use us students to imput their work, saves them time and then we get graded on it."

"Sounds like a sweet deal for them."

"Mostly," he paused at one of the doors, hitting a couple of numbers into the keypad and pressing enter so the green light flashed, before sticking his head in the door. "Back in five everyone, anyone want anything from the Café?"

Shouts for everything from coffee to organic tea and puff donuts emerged before he pulled the door closed again.

"I thought you weren't supposed to eat or drink in the labs?" John said, openly curious now that the guy seemed so reassuring and at ease about his trespassing.

"Shhhhhh," he mock whispered, "Don't tell anyone or I'll get in big trouble….In fact don't tell anyone you were here period or I'll be in it good. This area is supposed to be restricted after all."

John smiled, "your secret's safe with me, don't worry."

"Thanks man, hey you're a pretty good kid and I don't even know your name," he left it hanging so John could choose not to answer but he didn't want to seem any stranger then the circumstances already made him. How many high schoolers spent their free time sneaking into campus computer labs anyways?

"John, John Baum."

"Nice to meet you John, I'm Andrew Bion," the sudden formality shook John a little, but when he looked at the guy he was grinning at him as if they'd just shared a joke and John had to smile back.

They reached the door, and Andrew only shrugged when it wasn't blocked open like John said, but firmly closed.

"Guess they beat me to it," he said holding the door open and ushering John back out into the public entrance.

"After you…John Connor."

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John jumped at the sound of his name, already diving for the relative safety of the display cases, his hand fumbling in his pocket for his cell phone and damning the metal detectors at the school that made it impossible for him to carry anything for protection.

The metal door clipped his side, sending him crashing into the glass of the display rather then over it, and he lay there stunned watching as Andrew casually tossed the reinforced steel door across the room and looked down at him. Brightly painted balls were rolling in circles on the floor and for a moment John thought that the model of the solar system had come to life; planets spinning through dark space that was littered with shining, sparking clear stars.

John shook his head as he heard the footsteps slowly approach and felt glass crunch underneath his shoes and it stab into his palm as he pushed himself up off the floor.

Wait or Run…his whole life was running away from these things and waiting for the one that would finally kill him. Not today.

"You're one of them." He spat the word, not questioning but refusing to believe that he could have been deceived by a machine, that he could have liked one, thought it was a good guy.

"Well, here I am, John Connor, come and get me!" John opened his arms, spinning around, his breaths coming fast and heartbeat racing with the adrenalin rushing through his blood. No gun, no Cameron, nothing to work with but bits of glass and broken displays…he only had one shot at this so he had to play it right.

The terminator paused, looking at him quizzically. "You're up to something…I know you John Connor, you'd never give up that easily. But it's not going to work, you're alone, weaponless. History will show that today is the day John Connor died."

Bion walked forwards, not even trying to hurry; John had his back to the wall, literally, even if he had wanted to run he'd never make it to the door on the other end of the room and the windows were barred. He reached down, bending a strip of metal off what was left of the door so that it had a sharp ragged edge, a spear of metal to use against John's bare hands.

John tensed, angling slowly away and behind one of the overturned displays, as Bion approached, as if wood and plastic could protect him….but his foot was digging at a panel in the floor desperately trying to open it without revealing what he was doing. If he remembered right, there had been a display here that used animated graphics, which would mean that there was a power source around here somewhere.

Suddenly Bion lunged, metal sliced John's arm as he raised it in defense and fell back against the table, only to be grabbed by vice like hands around his throat. Cold metal pressed against his face and he felt the point knick under his eyes and then warm blood trailed down his face.

"The mighty John Connor reduced to a helpless child," Bion mused, squeezing slowly, his fingers cutting off John's air.

His feet scrabbled against the floor, toes barely touching but he felt one catch on the edge of something and he slid his foot forward, pushing and feeling the tile move.

John struggled, foot digging in the hole trying to blindly find a loop of cable, wiring, anything that might conduct electricity, but the dots that hazed his vision had become black holes and were slowly capturing in all the light…

Then all of a sudden he was on the floor again, on his hands and knees, shards of glass pricking his palms, and air rushing into his starved lungs.

He heard gunshots fired, and the looming figure in front of him was knocked back a step, then two, then three as someone else approached from his right. He looked up trying to see, but dark spots still obscured his vision, all he could make out was dark hair…

"Cameron?" he croaked.

"Get up," said the stranger, dragging him to his feet while coughed and pushing him towards the door.

"No…wait…" John, shook of the hands that tried to force him towards daylight and ran back, brushing away glass and bits of plastic, reaching his hands into the opening in the floor and closing around a cable the size of his wrist. If they left Bion here he'd reap havoc on the campus trying to get to John.

He heard the terminator coming up behind him, and a female voice curse before another set of gunshots rang out again. But this time they didn't phase it, the bullets only absorbing into its body. Bion grabbed John around the neck and hauled him up, feet dangling well off the ground, suspended as a human shield between the terminator and the dark haired girl who stood, a gun rock stead in her hands and aimed at them both.

Bion pulled John in close to him, one arm clamping over John's chest holding his arms pinned, fingers tightening to snap his neck. Only one thought ran through John's head, if he could only twist, could only move slightly then the frayed power cord gripped in his hands could make contact with Bion and overload its system…but the hands that held him allowed for barely enough room to breathe, let alone shift position.

"Now, it's time to end this," Bion breathed into his ear.

"Yes, it is," said the strange girl, and fired, the gunshot loud in the room and John screamed in pain.

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The bullet tore through his shoulder, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. It took a moment for John to realize that he was still alive, that the pain meant that he couldn't be dead…and better then that, he could move. His hands were free, the terminator had dropped him, one arm hanging useless at its side, the circuitry severed.

John didn't think, he moved, rolling and shoving the live wire at Bion, felt the heat as the electricity made contact with its leg, before it fell to the ground.

A crunch of glass reminded him he wasn't alone and he twisted back, wire clutched in his hand against this stranger who could be friend or foe.

"You might want to be more careful about what you shout to the world," the girl said, dark curling hair falling in waves as she held out a blood spattered hand to pull him to his feet. She looked him over, eyes assessing the slashed arm that was guarding what were probably a few cracked ribs, and bleeding shoulder, before turning away from him and pulling a knife from her boot, adjusting the gun at her belt.

"You've got 90 seconds until it reboots, I suggest you spend that time running."

"90 seconds? Make that 120 and I might believe that you weren't just trying to kill me too," he knelt, pocketknife flipping open as he searched for the small depression in the scalp that would indicate where the chip was hidden.

A hand grabbed his collar from behind, pulling him up and then quickly releasing the fabric when it began to tear as he pivoted on his heel, using the momentum to bring his elbow up brushing mere inches from where her face had been.

"Upgrade," she said never taking her eyes off the figure that lay as if dead on the ground, shiny metal showing beneath the blood of its wounds.

"You've got 70 seconds, John. Get moving."

John stared at her, not sure whether to run or call the nearest psychiatric hospital. This girl was definitely crazy…but then what—and who-- in his life wasn't?

She knelt wary of the broken glass, examining the terminator, looking for something and obviously not liking what she found before standing again, reloading and pulling a second gun and checking that it was loaded.

"50 seconds…" she said softly then turned and pointed the gun straight at John, finger freeing the safety catch.

John didn't know if the explosion was inside his head or not, but as the girl angled the gun away from him he saw a window on the other side of the building collapsed in a cloud of dust, glass and twisted metal. Cameron walking in through the gaping hole.

John couldn't reason out why he did it, but faster then thought he jumped the strange girl, knocking her to the floor and sending one gun skittering across the room. He wasn't sure if he was protecting himself, Cameron or her, but he wanted some answers and he wouldn't get any if Cameron and the girl ended up killing each other before he could even think of what the questions were.

She lay still underneath him, the surprise of his leap had caught her off guard, unbraced for the fall, she lay unconscious against his chest.

"Come on," John yelled at Cameron, "We've got maybe 30 seconds to get out of here!"

"Who's she?"

John looked down, as Cameron easily lifted the girl off the floor… curling dark hair blended in with the black tiles, the only colour in her face was blushed lips and a spreading bruise on her forehead from where he'd knocked her out. She was unidentifiable in almost every way, no name brand clothing, average height, slim, no tattoos or visible birth marks…. but there was something….something that hinted a past that John wanted to know more about.

"Hopefully, someone who can give us some answers."


	2. Chapter 2

Ghosts of the Future; Ch. 2

"Who are you!" Sarah screamed, her fist striking the girl's face, sending her head snapping backward and blood leaked down her chin.

"What is your mission?" blows punctuated her questions, each bruise and scrape that darkened the girls' fair skin only enraging her further as the stranger refused to answer. Sarah had split her knuckles open nearly twenty minutes ago and her hand smarted with every movement, it must be hurting the girl but she steadfastly remained silent. Sarah couldn't give up though, she'd get answers from the girl before they had to kill her. It was her life or Johns, and with the fear of his death giving her strength she raised her fist again, only to have it grabbed from behind and held fast.

"Mom…it's enough."

"John, go in the other room."

"No,"

"We need to know who she is," Sarah said, trying to shake free.

"She's a security threat," Cameron added, for once agreeing with Sarah rather then keeping John's confidence.

"She saved my life!" John yelled, letting go of his mother's hand with such force it rocked her backward.

"And before that she almost killed you!" Sarah voiced her deepest fear. "We can't take that chance, John, you know we can't."

He closed his eyes, jaw clenching as he turned away. Defeated. Who was he that his life was worth so many others?

"Go in the other room John," Sarah repeated, trying to spare him what she could, while she could.

"No," he said.

"John," Sarah sat back on her heels in frustration, a bandaged and blood soaked hand brushing back her hair in tired annoyance. "We've been through this…there isn't any other way."

"I know," he said, turning back and Sarah saw pain and resolve in his eyes. "But if this is for me, if this is because of me, then I'm the one who should be getting the answers we need."

"John," Sarah said, a warning note entering her tone that had always made him back down when he was a child, he'd run to her with tears in his eyes and confess taking a cookie before dinner or losing his new toy.

"It's his fight Sarah," Derek piped up for the first time from where he leaned against the wall in the corner. "You can't hold his hand and fight his battles for him."

Sarah held her ground kneeling before John a moment longer, before slowly getting to her feet.

"I'm his mother, I'm supposed to protect him," she said, one hand on John's shoulder.

"Not from everything."

Sarah stared at Derek, hating him in that moment for pointing out what she already knew but didn't want to acknowledge. Not trusting herself to speak she bit her lip and looked up, meeting John's eyes looking for some small hesitation or hint that she could still force him off this path, but she only found conviction in his eyes. Sarah nodded, once, before stepping back, standing close beside Derek without touching him, without looking at him.

John stood poised before the bleeding girl taped into one of their dining room chairs, she could see the tension in the way his back and shoulders were held rigid, arms away from his sides, as if he could distance himself from this as easily as holding them away.

"What's your name?" John's voice emerged distanced, dispassionate as if he was blocking all emotion. He took a deep breath, hands curling into fists.

The girl, leaned forward, letting blood trail out her mouth and onto the carpet, watching the puddle grow, fascinated.

"You can call me Casper."

"That's a boys name," Cameron said, just as John spoke; "You mean as in 'the friendly ghost'?"

"Fine, Cassie then."

John sighed, the tension leaking out of his frame. Finally they were getting somewhere, and he tried to keep the relief of not having to hit her off his face.

"Why were you trying to kill me?" John crossed his arms, watching the girl before him closely. She'd lie, he knew she'd lie the first time but eventually, now that she was talking, she'd tell them the truth.

Silence.

"Why were you trying to kill me? What's your mission here?"

Still nothing. John raised his hand, smacking her open palmed across the face before he allowed himself to think about it. Blood from her nose mingled with the trail from her mouth, staining her face and chin red.

"Let me try," Cameron stepped forwards, fist raised with a blow that would as likely knock Cassie unconscious as loosen her tongue.

"No," John jumped between them. "She's either trying to kill me or I sent her back here for some reason, either way I'm the one that she's going to tell!"

"No, she won't," Derek's quiet declaration, made everyone turn towards him.

"She'll talk," Sarah swore, confident.

"No, she won't," Derek pushed himself casually away from the wall strolling towards John. "Because you didn't send her back."

"Wait," Sarah said, mirroring Derek's movements as he approached Cassie and John. Derek Reece had his own way of getting information and it usually involved a gun, car ride and shovel. "You mean that she's with them? The machines?" Sarah couldn't help but look at Cameron when she spoke, only to be met with blank curious eyes.

"I have no records of her," Cameron supplied.

Derek smiled, shaking his head as if listening to some private joke that made this situation very funny.

"No, I don't mean that she's with them. Couldn't be further from the truth in fact, could it?' he grabbed her chin, pulling her face up so he could look in her eyes, blood smearing on his fingertips.

"I mean, she's a Ghost."


	3. Chapter 3

Ghosts of the Future; Ch. 3

"Like boo?" John said skeptically, staring at his uncle like he'd lost his mind.

"Like Casper the friendly ghost, right Cassie?" Derek let Cassie's head fall back, but she stared at him, now completely focused and alert.

"Wait…just wait a second," Sarah interrupted. "What do you mean? Obviously she's not a real ghost, I'll believe in a lot; machines taking over the world, judgment day, but I don't believe in ghosts. What's this about?"

Now it was Derek's turn to be silent, staring off against Cassie as if trying to find his footing after such a strange turn of events.

"Go ahead," she smiled, a daring light in her eyes. "You seem to know so much about us, explain it then."

"Somebody should," John still stood in front of Cassie, looking back and forth between her and Derek, realizing that more was going on then he knew but he couldn't even guess at what.

"I don't know much, no one does," Derek said slowly, hitching a chair from the table and sitting down. "No one does who's not with the Ghosts that is, and they won't talk no matter what you do. It's said they've even withstood machine torture and not revealed what they know," he glanced at Cassie as if seeking confirmation but she just smiled at him, spitting out blood before leaning back in the chair, stretching her hands against the duct tape.

"John created the Ghosts when people started deserting, started being corrupted by the machines and working against us. Unlike metal, you couldn't tell which humans had turned and were spies, learning our moves and position and reporting back to the machines. Ghosts were founded to search the traitors out, find the cells and take them out and any machines with them."

"Then, if I'm the one who started this group why won't she answer me?" John turned to Cassie, "Did I give an order not to talk about the future?"

Cassie only smirked, blood running down her face.

"She won't answer you John, because the Ghosts are rogue. They answer to no one and Connor designed it that way. If no one knew who they were, what their mission was or could give them orders then no one could subvert them, corrupt them. They are a completely independent unit."

"Like the CIA gone bad," Sarah said, whistling under her breath. Giving someone that much power with no rules and nothing to control them…the very thought scared Sarah. John must have been desperate to resort to such a thing.

"Wait," John interrupted, confused by something. "If no one is supposed to know their missions, how do you know that they track down deserters?" he paused, eyes narrowing in suspicion; "are you a Ghost?"

Derek smiled, "good try kid, but no. That part became common knowledge when the bodies began showing up. Or at least what was left of them."

Sarah looked at Cameron, standing guard by the front window. "Do you know anything about this? Any references to 'Ghosts' in your memory banks?"

"Nothing, although there are records of informants being killed; systematically. It was assumed that John made it a priority and sent out teams, but there was never any evidence."

"So we're taking all this on some rumor you overheard?" Sarah asked.

"Basically," Derek didn't get up but crossed his arms on the back of the chair, leaning his head down.

"And there's no way to confirm it cause even if she is a member of this ultra secret society, she won't say anything?"

"yup."

"And if she's not…a ghost," sarcasm coloured Sarah's tone, "then she's with the machines and is trying to kill John."

"Did try to kill John," Cameron pointed out.

"That's right," said John, latching on the one point that might hope to clear up the situation. "If you are a one of these ghosts, then I created you, why would you try to kill me?"

Cassie looked up at John but instead of smugly remaining silent her eyes narrowed, trying to think about what to say. How to say it.

"My mission isn't to protect you,…others do that," her eyes moved over Sarah and Cameron before coming back to John. "It's to kill them; you got in the way."

"So…you weren't trying to kill me then?"

"If I wanted you dead John, you'd be dead. You think I managed to shoot you, not hit any major organs or blood vessels but couldn't have put a bullet straight through your heart had that been my objective?" she sighed. "The machine was behind you, you were in my shot. Plain and simple."

"I don't know if I'm buying this," Sarah said. "If you were working for them then I'm sure you'd say the same thing so we'd release you and you can have another chance to kill us in our sleep."

"So…you're questioning my motives, calling me a liar and a murderer, and ridiculing my skills all in the same sentence?" Cassie turned to John, "Is she always this thorough?"

"Pretty much," he couldn't help but smile back at her, his guard relaxing.

Cassie looked back to Sarah, where she was standing beside Derek. "Look, I can keep saying that I'm only here to stop the machine, you can keep doubting me, and all that's going to happen is that you're giving it more time to find you."

"It doesn't know where we are, unless you've told it?"

"It'll find you. It has John's blood-they're like hounds on a scent, get a little piece of you, hair, blood, bone and it can track you to the ends of the earth. Trust me," she said, grinning at the irony, "I know."

"Terminators can't do that," Cameron said bluntly.

"You can't reboot in 90 seconds either" Cassie stated.

Cameron cocked her head, puzzled while Sarah scrutinized Cassie closely trying to detect even a hint of whether the girl was lying or not.

"What are you talking about?" but Cassie just sat looking at John "...John?"

"Upgrades," was all he answered.

-------------------------------------------

"Watch her," Sarah said over her shoulder to Cameron as she motioned John and Reece to join her in the kitchen.

She leaned back against the counter, hands braced behind her but within easy reach of her gun. The angle gave her a clear view of the backdoor, and through to the living room where Cassie was still duct taped to the chair, Cameron taking up a position between the girl and the door.

"I don't like this," she acknowledged, looking at John and Derek standing in front of the doorway. Side by side like this she could see the resemblance between them, the line of the jaw, shape of the eyes that hinted at how they shared more then a cause. Even the way Derek bent over the kitchen table, hands gripping the chair before him, while John stood his arms crossed over his chest revealed hints of Kyle in them both.

"What did you mean by upgrades John?"

He shifted his feet before answering; "The terminator who we fought isn't like the ones we've faced before. The metal remolds around bullets and wounds, closing them like they had never been. They reboot in 90 seconds, they're faster, stronger, almost indistinguishable from humans."

"Derek?" Sarah turned to him, her oracle, her way to know the future. "Do you know what he's talking about? Do you know what's after us?"

"I might have an idea…" he mused slowly, "I heard, right before I was sent back, about a new breed of machine…they were infiltrating our camps, taking on the appearance of people they'd killed and then wiping out the rest of the unit. No one escaped. We're talking seasoned soldiers here Sarah, and none of them saw it coming."

"How?"

"They act like us," John supplied. "The one that's after me, I saw him before he attacked; he was laughing and eating and joking. He had relationships…friends and no one suspected he was anything but human."

"You can't even take Cameron to the mall without people giving her looks," Derek added.

"Can we fight it?" Sarah asked.

"I don't know of anyone who did and survived to tell of it, except perhaps a Ghost…but then they're legend and rumor themselves also."

"So it's possible that Cassie's telling the truth about this terminator…and that she knows how to stop it." Sarah said it out loud, not so much questioning as looking for confirmation.

"That's the first time you've said her name," John observed.

She looked at him, thinking sometimes he was too damn vigilant for his own good, but knowing that it would keep him safe, keep him alive.

"So she stays?" John asked.

"She stays," Sarah relented, "For now."


	4. Chapter 4

Ghosts of the Future Ch. 4

Cassie stood at the window, trying to use her faded reflection in the glass to wipe the drying blood off of her face. The bruises wouldn't come off so easily but that wasn't new, and mercifully the world outside was dark enough that they blended into the night.

"Do you have to stare at me like that?" she asked, eyes shifting in the glass to find Cameron's face. "It's eerie."

"How am I supposed to look at you?"

Cassie sighed, turning away from the darkness outside. "Maybe a little less like you're just waiting for me to make a wrong move so you can kill me?"

"You tried to kill John, my mission is to protect him. You're a security threat…I watch and eliminate threats to John."

"Well I guess if those are my two options, watching doesn't seem so bad." She wiped idly at a trickle of blood that dripped from a cut on her cheek. How she'd even allowed herself to get into this situation was ridiculous…first failing to take out the machine, letting it get away with viable tissue, then being knocked unconscious by an amateur….it was only to be expected that she'd now let herself be watched by one of them. Maybe she was getting too old for this…ghosts usually didn't make it 10 years , and she's past that mark about three years ago, but it was hard to remember the years anymore.

But she wasn't so far gone into incompetence that she'd rely on a machine to watch her back, front or pinky finger. If they knew…

"You know, while you're here there are going to be some ground rules," Sarah walked in, hands crossed over her chest in much the same gesture that John had used earlier. She looked at Cassie like any second she'd rip off her skin and reveal the shining metal of a terminator underneath, here to kill John.

"What, no boys in my room and curfew at 10:30 on school nights?" sarcasm practically dripped off the words.

"No boys period," Sarah said, two could play if that was how she wanted it. "You're not to be alone with John. Ever. Cameron will watch you while you sleep…"

"Joy, my very own slumber party girlfriend."

"…and I'll watch you during the day, and if you think that just because she's a machine and I'm human I'll think twice about shooting you in the head if I catch you within twenty feet of John, you'd be mistaken." Sarah stared at the girl, trying to be sure that her point was securely embedded in Cassie's mind. There was something about this girl that she didn't trust, something that niggled the back of her mind and put a strange feeling in her stomach when she was in the room…like she wouldn't hesitate to shoot them all to get to her goal…like a machine. She shivered, but suppressed it, turning to go and crossing to the stairs.

"I know," Cassie called, all pretenses dropped, soberly, after her. "Cameron's a machine. It follows orders, programs and protocols. It's not driven by emotions, it doesn't make mistakes."

----------------------------------------------------

Cassie leaned back into the couch, feeling the softness of the cushions envelope her, letting herself sink into their embrace. She closed her eyes to small slits, resting them briefly but not relaxing. Not while it was in the room.

"You're not sleeping"

"How observant of you," Cassie answered, and then cursed herself for doing it. What was the first thing the Ghosts had taught her?- you don't answer them…over and over for two years she'd had that message beaten into her head and now here she was sharing pleasant conversation and trading sarcasms…God, she was slipping. Maybe it was the jumps…they said if you did too many time jumps it started doing things to your mind…

"Why?"

"Maybe I'm just not tired." Damn, maybe she was just too tired.

"What's it like?"

"What?" she answered, opening her eyes as far as the swelling would allow, to stare up at the ceiling. He was up there…John Connor. It had been more then fifteen years since she'd been so close to him; only wood and plaster separated them. She'd recognized him immediately, how could she fail to, but he was so different now from the man that he would become. She wondered what would shape him, where the scars that marked his skin and haunted his eyes would come from…wondered if Cameron could protect him from it.

"To be tired. What's it like?"

Cassie turned her head, looking at Cameron where she stood by the bookshelf. Human Beings 101 for machines. She knew she shouldn't answer, that this was exactly the sort of thing that had allowed the new versions to imitate humans so well. But it was just too comfortable to have someone to talk to again, she couldn't remember the last time she'd said so many words in one day. Ghosts generally haunted alone.

"It's like…everything is heavy, dragging you down and making it hard to do even the simplest things…it's like continuing to fight when you know you're going lose."

"Why fight then?"

Cassie sighed, wondering how, when the machines had all the information in the world they could fail to understand so much. "Because there are some things that you can't let go of…some things that you can't give in to."

"You sound like John."

"Not this John."

"No," Cameron conceded. "Not this John."

Cassie sat up, leaning her elbows on her knees and focusing on Cameron, holding her eyes as if, if she looked long enough she could see a spark of something familiar in their depts.

"He sent you back," Cassie stated it, sure.

"Yes."

"To protect him."

"Yes."

"Always."

"Yes."

"And you'll never stop, never give up, no matter what."

"Yes."

Cassie leaned back, satisfied, looking up at the ceiling again. "Good."

--------------------------------------------

John sat on the top step of the stairs, arms wrapped around his legs and chin resting on his knees listening as the silence stretched from downstairs. Slowly he uncoiled himself, stretching slightly and feeling cold muscles pull at the movement. He braced his arms on the floor behind him, balancing his weight as he stood so the stairs wouldn't creak, quietly making his way back to his room. He'd thought that talking to Cassie would give him some answers….turns out listening to her had only given him more questions.


	5. Chapter 5

Ghosts of the Future Ch. 5

"I'm not going to school."

"John," Sarah sighed, "this is our life. I can't pull you out of school every time there's a new threat; you'd never go for more then a week at a time if I did."

John only grunted, shaking his head and not looking her.

She jumped up, grabbing his shoulders and forcing him to meet her eyes. "Don't you think that I want to? That I'd love to just hide you away somewhere at the ends of the earth where they would never find us? Never hurt you…" Sarah let go, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. "I can't do that John."

"Yeah, I know," he grabbed his backpack off the table, motions sharp with anger. He stormed out, turning to look back at her from the door. "Can't have social services investigating us, right?"

Sarah leaned against the table, head hung, trying to ignore the little voice that told her she was losing him.

"Go after him," she said, not looking up…"Keep him safe."

She heard the rhythmic click of Cameron's boots on the tiled kitchen floor as she walked past Sarah and out the door, after John. She pressed her fingers to her forehead, feeling a headache building behind her eyes that she didn't think was going to go away any time soon.

"What are you looking at?" She asked, looking up and through the doorway into the living room.

"I don't know," Cassie said, voice rich with hidden meaning, eyes looking at Sarah with condemnation. "I don't know a mother who would willingly send her son into danger alone."

"He's always in danger…" Sarah said, "and he's not alone."

"If you think that, then there's really nothing else to say," Cassie said, bending to pick up an abandoned book from the coffee table.

"I don't know about that," Sarah began, turning and walking around the corner of the table and into the living room, only to be knocked back into the kitchen, something heavy striking her face and giving her a coppery blood taste on her tongue. She rolled, reaching for her gun that was trapped underneath her, only to have a second blow crash into her temple…and then only darkness.

Cassie dropped the glass paperweight on the floor, Sarah's blood staining its clear surface a liquid rose. She watched it roll along the tile, coming to rest against Sarahs' still form. She'd had enough of this, enough playing games; she knew the target now, knew intimately everything that stood between her and it….and what weaknesses would allow her to get close enough to kill him.

She grabbed a tote bag off the counter, stuffing in random artillery that lay strewn over the house; homemade c4 might come in handy, and the electric charges couldn't hurt either. Taking one last look around, she picked up Sarah's gun off the floor before leaving through the back door, after John.

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John sat in class, head resting on his desk watching the minutes slowly tick by, the hands of the clock inching their way closer to lunch and freedom. The teachers lecture was entirely lost on him by now, a constant droning in the background like so many bees the only thing that told him she was still speaking.

He shouldn't be here. He shook his head slightly wondering why she didn't understand that…his presence here was putting every other person in this building in danger. They thought that by putting in metal detectors and security that they were keeping schools safe. What was after him wasn't going to be stopped by any safety measure…and the damage it would cause would make bullying and school shootings look as tame as a game of mini golf.

"He was alone…father dead and the blood on his hands, and now he was having to step into the shoes of a King, a soldier, a war," the teacher's voice infiltrated his consciousness, striking and resonating on something within him…

"Only one person on his side, one person who he believed in and trusted completely…and she turned to madness, unable to deal with the reality of what he'd become…"

John turned, looking past the rows of student's, their eyes glazing over in boredom to find Cameron and Riley sitting on the other side of the classroom. They were as different as could be; Cameron sitting slightly behind him, with a view of both the windows lining the far wall and the only door into the room. She sat straight at attention, listening intently and focused, but at the same time completely removed from everything around her….off in her own world. John wanted to know what she thought about, where she went at times like this; was it only that she was performing maintenance or was there something more…something deeper.

And then there was Riley; she leaned against the desk, head resting on her arms, looking out the window near where she sat. She didn't look bored with the lecture like everyone else, but that she wanted to just escape it all and run outside, feel the sun and the grass and the breeze….feel alive. As he watched her, she turned, eyes meeting and holding his, smiling at him and he couldn't help but smile back.

"Shakespeare didn't create your standard hero in his plays…" the teacher continued. "His hero isn't perfect, isn't the shining example of good like knights in romantic poetry, but rather someone who does what needs to be done, who takes the evil within themselves because there is no one else to step forward. Shakespeare's hero has hands soaked in blood….is the outcast."

John shivered, that last characterization bringing back memories…an explosion and an upstairs room…. but then the bell rang, pulling him out of his mind and back to the noise and confusion of the classroom as students shoved books and notes into backpacks and rushed for the freedom of the halls.

John moved slowly, in no hurry to join the crush and crowds as students rushed to lockers to deposit books as quickly as possible and then escape the studious atmosphere that seemed to have pervaded the very bricks of the school building. He looked up as Riley slid onto his desk, handing him the pen and notebook so they wouldn't fall to the floor.

"You're sister's doing that stalker thing again," she commented, rolling her head to the door where Cameron waited, books in hand, scanning the hallway.

"Yeah, well she's strange that way."

Riley smiled, brushing off his comment like he knew she would. "Want to give her a challenge then?" she asked, moving conspiratorially closer and whispering in his ear; "Meet me in ten minutes behind the parking lot and we'll run away for lunch…." He smiled, this close smelling the coconut shampoo on her hair before she jumped away, running past Cameron and outside.

"What was that?" Cameron asked as he shouldered his backpack and went with her into the hall.

"Nothing, she's still mad about Mexico," he lied. He knew it was stupid, foolish and dangerous with a terminator after him …but he also knew that he was going to do it. The only question was how he was going to lose Cameron…but then that became unnecessary.

"John?" A deep voice hailed him from the other end of the hallway and he turned automatically, to see the principal half way down the hall with a police man at his side. "Wait there a moment please," he had the ring of authority, secure in his position in the school it never even occurred to the principal that John wouldn't wait, but as the policeman turned to look at him lifting his hat, John recognized the dark hair, square chin and easy going smile;

Bion had found him.


	6. Chapter 6

Ghosts of the Future Ch. 6

John grabbed Cameron's arm, pulling her through the milling students and down the hall away from Bion and the principal. He didn't turn to look when he started hearing yells behind him and muffled crashes, only stopping when Cameron stopped.

"What are you doing?!" he screamed at her. "We have to get out of here!" He saw Bion pushing his way through the throng of students, practically throwing them against the walls in his hurry…they were slowing him down, but it wasn't enough to give John time to escape. He knew it and when he looked at Cameron, saw that she knew it too.

"Run John," she said, shaking free of his grip and pushing him away down the hall. He was dragged along with other students as they ran away from the enraged policeman, not knowing who he was after or why. He managed to work his way to the side of the hall, ducking into the recessed doorway of a janitor's closet he watched as Cameron moved to intercept Bion.

Cameron didn't wait for Bion to get to her, the sooner she got to him the more time that John would have.

She reached him first, fist striking flesh and metal that felt oddly pliable but that knocked him backwards. She didn't give him time to recover, following up with a roundhouse kick that send Bion stumbling back but didn't phase him. She punched him again…and again, each blow knocking him a step back down the hall, a step further from John.

They were in line with the school office now, the principal stood shocked, his mouth hanging open as Cameron apparently unprovoked attacked a police officer, and he heard the staff yelling for someone to call the authorities behind him.

Cameron advanced on Bion, picking up a chair from a row that sat outside the office and raising it with the pointed metal legs out, ready to bring it down on the terminators' head, but she was grabbed from behind and the chair was thrown awry.

She turned easily, the hands that tried to hold her arms to her side and constrained nothing more then a distraction as she pushed the principal backwards, using only a minimal amount of effort but he hit the lockers hard, making a dent in the metal before lying still.

The interruption had given Bion time to recover however, and as Cameron turned his fist sent her flying against the wall, breaking the window that looked into the office and sending glass scattering across the surfaces of tables and floor.

He pinned her against the metal of the window frame, pummeling her over and over again before he looked up and saw John watching them from further down the hall.

"Stupid boy," he said, lifting Cameron's face, the skin scraped to reveal the metal underneath and turning her so that she could see John waiting. "He thinks to save you, a machine…but his act of altruism will only get him killed instead."

Bion hit Cameron, knocking her to the ground then kicking her, sending her skidding along the floor and turning to come after John.

-----------------------------------------------

John gripped the doorframe so hard his fingers turned white as Bion started down the now empty hall towards him. He stood a moment, breathing in anger looking between Bion's advancing figure and where Cameron lay on the floor…120 seconds, but it was long enough for Bion to kill him a number of times over.

He made his decision then, Bion was after him not Cameron, not anyone else at the school-if he ran Bion would follow him and leave everyone else behind. With one last passionate look back at where Cameron lay, he turned and started running down the hall towards the outside doors.

But sirens sounded loud in the parking lot and he'd taken only a few steps when he saw a police cruiser pull up blocking the doors and his escape. Cursing he slid to a stop turning so fast he nearly fell, but scrabbling with his hands got back to his feet. Only one option left to him, and it was sheer suicide, but even that was better odds then a hallway where either exit was literally a dead end.

He ran, pushing himself faster as Bion hesitated in surprise to see John rushing back towards him, only to pivot on the door of the janitor's closet again and throwing himself inside, depressing the lock on the inside of the handle. It was like throwing a pillow infront of an oncoming train but it might buy him a second or two.

He heard Bion yell in anger and frustration behind him, but he didn't stop, running to the back of the closet behind the boiler to where there hid a rusty metal ladder leading up onto the roof. He jumped catching the runs half way up and scrambling with feet and hands that were pricked with sharp bits of rust pushed at the flat door at the top. It didn't budge, years of rain, rust and decay had sealed the metal shut.

The door to the closet burst open, metal screaming as the hinges were torn free behind him, and he nearly sobbed as he pushed at the door again, throwing all his weight at it. Only to be blinded by bright sunlight as it burst open, and blinked surprised to see Cassie standing above him, halo-ed by light.

"About time you got here," she said calmly, leveling a gun at his head and pulling the trigger.


	7. Chapter 7

Ghosts of the Future Ch. 7

John heard the gunshots, loud in the silence of the rooftop but he felt no pain. He knew when you were hurt badly enough that it took time for your body to register the severity of the injury, time for it to react and the pain to start, but he waited, heartbeats thunderous in his ears and still nothing.

He was jerked back to himself as Cassie reached down, pulling him out of the hatchway and into the sunlight of the roof, the pebbled concrete surface pricking his back through the light shirt he wore.

"You're really going to have to become a little faster on the uptake if you want to live long enough to see your own future," she said, hauling him to his feet and shoving a gun and a package into his hands. "Now make yourself useful, then run."

John looked down; his own long fingers cradled the gun to a chest that wasn't riddled with holes and blood-soaked.

The sound of bullets ricocheting off metal dissipated the last of the surreal fog that clouded his mind and he dropped to his knees, dumping the contents of the package out onto the roof; there was c4, charges, priming wire and wire cutters; John's mind quickly interpreting the items and building a plan, even while he looked up to see the terminator climbing through the open door in the roof.

Cassie stood between him and it, gun ready and started firing as soon as it's torso was fully clear, the semiautomatic in her hands looking oddly familiar for a second before John moved on to more pressing concerns. The bullets weren't slowing Bion down much, the metal seeming to melt and become incorporated within its own body, they only made his steps slow and halting rather then stopping him completely.

John's hands fumbled with the materials before him, inserting the wires into row upon row of the putty like c4 compound, then twisting the strands together into a rope that coiled beside him. Shoving the charges back into the bag, he unrolled the loops as he hurried to the edge of the roof, looking back to call for Cassie.

The terminator was almost upon her now, and John's eyes widened in horror and surprise as one of its arms became liquid, reforming into a pointed metal knife at the end of a wrist stump. Cassie ducked as it slashed at her, swerving back and under the blade-arm pushing something against its abdomen that stuck fast and then twisting away. But the maneuver cost her, and as she fell back the machine was already adjusting blade swinging to rip open her side as she dodged, leaving her scrabbling away on her back.

John stood at the edge of the roof, his hands clutching the cords so tight their entwined spiral pattern embossed into his palm. He held a lighter in the other hand, flame glowing brightly…if he set off the charges now Bion was surrounded by enough c4 to be destroyed, but Cassie was too close…she'd die in the explosion. He watched her roll away from Bion, clutching at her side and he could see the blood soaking through her fingers from here….He took a deep breath, eyes narrowing with determination and lit the primer wire, dropping it as it began to smoke and spark and running back for Cassie. He had ten seconds and if he was fast enough it might just be enough to get them both out of range.

Cassie looked up as John's hands closed around her arm, pulling her backwards and she cursed-him for coming back and herself for believing that even this John Connor would do anything else-and pushed herself to her feet, running with him to the edge of the roof. They wouldn't survive the fall, but it might be better odds then staying with the machine on a roof that was about to blow up.

She could hear it coming up behind them, and did the only thing she could…the electric shock charge she'd shoved into its body and John's c4 still had a few seconds before it went off, and Bion would reach them before that, the ensuing explosion that close would kill them just as effectively as the terminator would. Cassie dug her feet in as they reached the end of the roof and looked out over blue sky and down to rock hard concrete, yanking John to a stop she pulled him down with her as she knelt on one knee and with a practiced motion threw a grenade over her head back beyond the terminator to where John's c4 rolls waited to be ignited.

He thought it would be loud, bright red and orange flames leaping up into the sky like in the movies, but all he heard was a deep poof that seemed to reverberate into his bones and a bright light, before Cassie grabbed him, holding him tight between her body and the wall.

John felt heat scorch his face as it emanated in a wave from behind them and his hand and arm where it was exposed hugging Cassie's back bubbled and blistered from the fire.

The ground rumbled underneath them and John pulled Cassie closer as he looked back and saw the floor—the roof-- giving way and collapsing into the fire, the edges of the gaping hole crumbling towards them.

Cassie, propped herself up, arms on either side of his head and legs straddling him as she looked around, one hand moving to run through his hair, and despite himself, despite the fire, despite everything John's breath caught in his throat and he stared up at her; skin aglow and hair the colour of burnt amber in the fire. Her hand slipped down his face, over his throat then down his chest and stomach coming to a rest on the sharp angles of his pelvis and whether it was the enduring danger or the incredible impossibility of their still being alive, he couldn't help the way his body responded to her.

She leaned down, body fitting to his. "You're alright," she breathed, voice shaky with relief, before pulling away. John followed, he couldn't help but follow, his hands with a mind of their own refused to give up their hold on her shoulders.

He tried to find his voice, but only succeeded in sucking in a breath full of smoke and bent over coughing.

"You've got to get out of here," she said, looking around the rooftop that had become an inferno and the crater that was the middle where Bion had stood. It's ragged edge was only a foot or so from where they sat, and as John watched something brighter then the fire caught his attention and his hands tightened on Cassie's arms, as shiny metal fingers appeared at the rim, followed by a second hand, then the glistening sinister metal skull with burning eyes staring straight at john.

"Impossible…" he stuttered, shaking Cassie in demand that she tell him that it was only smoke blurring his vision and Bion couldn't possibly have survived the explosion…the fall…the fire.

Her face closed, turning back to John he read the desperation in her gaze. "Trust me," she said using his arms to get to her feet and then pulling him with her. "Hold on," and as Bion's red hot metal hand reached out, closing around her ankle which was closest, she pushed John off the roof, the floor crumbling out from underneath them.

------------------------------------------------

John felt the air whip past him, clutching at his clothes. It was oddly cold after the heat of the fire and he wondered if it was the early chill of death that he was feeling rather then just the breeze of falling swiftly off a roof. He tried to brace himself; any second the concrete of the street below would shatter his bones, piercing organs and resulting in immeasurable pain on impact.

He saw the trees that adorned the front of the school, watched as their green leafy tops rushed by, replaced too quickly with thick branches and then trunks…soon now.

And then the sharp pain of landing brushed all thoughts from his head…but it wasn't the bone crushing pain he'd anticipated, rather hard and defined but cushioned also, and then a second collision that sent the air rushing out of his lungs.

But amazingly the pain was confined to a few sharp points on his arms and legs and what would surely amount to many many deep bruises. He tried to move, only to feel something shift beneath him, and rolling he saw Cameron sit up; one side of her face scraped raw from Bion's beating and her arm twisted out of joint.

"You…you caught me," he stumbled, stating the obvious… there was no other way he could have survived fall.

"Yes," she said, glancing down at herself and then back up at John. "We have to go. Now." Cameron got to her feet, one leg dragging and waited while John struggled up, feeling all the pain that shock had staved off as his muscles cried in protest. He leaned on Cameron, pausing to look back at the school, flames sprouting from the windows as the glass exploded out of them in a loud shower.

A black SUV skidded to a halt in front of them and Sarah jumped out of the drivers seat, running to John and quickly looking him over, hands framing his face and then settling on his shoulders.

"Are you alright?" she screamed at him, voice barely registerable over the fire and sirens. "John," she shook him, "are you alright?" She pulled up his shirt looking for the source of the blood that stained his clothing, the wound.

"I'm okay," he yelled, brushing away her hands. "It's not my blood."

She guided them towards the car, pushing them into the backseat, and looking around. "Where's Cassie? Did she do this?"

John shook his head, telling himself that the burning in his eyes was from the fire and smoke.

Cameron spared him from answering, "the terminator found us," she outlined the facts as Sarah drove, speeding in her desire to get somewhere safe.

"John?" his mother's voice cut through the haze that his mind had become. "What happened while Cameron was rebooting?"

He swallowed, tasting smoke and ash on his tongue. "Bion cornered me on the roof," his voice sounded high and strange to his ears. "I would have died, but Cassie showed up…she fought him and set off the explosion that started the fire…it didn't kill him mom. He just kept coming…so I jumped. And Cameron caught me."

Sarah's hands tightened on the wheel and she glanced in the side mirror to see if anyone was following them, taking in the dried blood slicking back her hair on one side. She'd never been so afraid as when she'd woken up on the floor, her gun missing, the door open and Cassie gone.

"Where is she now?....John, where is she now?"

He looked up, meeting her eyes in the rearview mirror, his own eyes hard with anger and pain and guilt that he was far too young to bear. "In the fire. Bion pulled her into the fire when he was reaching for me."

John bent over, resting his head on his chest and wrapping his arms around his knees as they drove the rest of the way to the safe house in silence.


	8. Chapter 8

SCC Ghosts of the Future Ch. 8

They spent two days at the safe house, a small motel just off the highway about fifty miles out of town where John had far too much time with nothing to do but stare at cars passing them by and think. By the time Derek showed up on the third day and said that it was safe enough to go home, that the police had bought their neighbours story about them being out of town for a family emergency—especially when coupled with a phone call to Uncle Reece in Nevada, John was just about ready to explode from stir-craziness.

"Most people don't even clearly remember what happened," Derek said, casually folding himself into a plastic chair on the concrete sidewalk out front that the hotel advertised rather loosely as a sundeck/patio. "Some say that John and Cameron weren't there that day, others are sure that they saw them, but when questioned say it could have just been someone who looked like them."

"Details tend to get lost in the panic," Sarah observed leaning against the hood of the car Derek had arrive in. She didn't even want to know where he'd gotten it, but assumed that she probably wouldn't see it again. Derek had a way of picking up transportation when he needed it…and disposing of it when he didn't.

"Principal Hadley saw me and Cameron," John's voice emerged from the darkness of the hotel room, he'd barely set foot outside the door the whole time they'd been here, instead spending most of his time laying on the bed or staring aimlessly at the tv.

"He's got a concussion," Derek called back over his shoulder, not turning around but his eyes meeting Sarah's and she shrugged. She didn't know how to help him with this…he had to find his way on his own.

"Doesn't remember much of anything that's happened since last week, conveniently."

Well, that was that then, John thought, staring up at the water marks on the ceiling. Everything all wrapped up in a neat and tidy little package that had sank into his gut and was going to eat him alive it ached so much.

"You can't go back to school though, I'm afraid," Derek commented, his tone making it clear just how sorry he really wasn't. "It was kind of annihilated in the explosion and kids are going to be bused out to the surrounding district schools while repairs take place…which means they might be done in time for you to have your graduation photos taken in front of the half built construction site!"

"I guess it's back to home schooling again, hun John?" Sarah said, knowing how much he hated it.

They were trying to get a response from him, a smile, a smart-ass come back. He knew it but he just couldn't oblige them right now…not while all his energy was focused on not thinking…on not remembering….on not screaming.

Derek sat, his head cocked for any noise emanating from the room behind him…nothing. He looked up and met Sarah's eyes, jerking his head in an invitation to take a walk towards the main office.

"John?" she said, voice carefully neutral. "I'm going to go check us go so we can get going, stay inside, okay?"

"Sure thing," he answered, watching as Cameron moved from the back of the room to stand guard just inside the door. For a second the frustration at constantly being protected, at people being willing to give their lives for some great leader that he might never even become and certainly who he wasn't now, boiled over, hand tightening on the gun that always lay underneath his pillow....before taking a deep breath and forcing his fingers to relax. He couldn't shoot his way out of this. The only way to stop it, stop people from dying for him was to stop the future.

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"John's taking this kind of hard," Derek observed as he and Sarah slowly walked past the motel office, angling along the treeline and away from the motel and the road.

"Would you expect anything different? He was nearly killed…and she was" Sarah said, keeping pace easily they walked side by side without touching, without looking at each other. Sometimes he reminded her too much of Kyle it hurt…and when they were talking about John…she could almost forget if she closed her eyes that it was Derek and not John's father talking.

"I'd expect him to keep going, he can't let every setback, every death affect him like this."

"What do you want him to be Derek?!" She turned, shouting at him, her voice filling the silence of the woods with the pain and frustration that she couldn't help him with this, that she couldn't protect him from it all. "He's not a machine, he feels and hurts and yes, when people die for him, he questions why! Why it should have to happen, why his survival is worth so much pain and suffering and death, why it should have to be him!" she collapsed, the anger draining out of her and leaving her empty, tears streaming down her cheeks.

She looked up as Derek's hands closed over her shoulders, pulling her against him.

"What's he like in the future, Derek?" Sarah asked, wanting a small glimpse into the man her son would grow to become who she would never get to see. "Has he built a wall around himself so that the deaths don't touch him? Has his soul suffered that much?"

Derek's silence was her answer, and Sarah hung her head, pushing away from him and got to her feet, brushing pine needles off her trousers and wiping her eyes.

"If he didn't" Derek's voice came quietly from the forest behind her, "he would never have made it, Sarah. He'd be dead."

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John was loading the car when they got back, piling in their few bags of clothes and personal items on top of the dark plastic container that was filled with guns, rifles, and extra ammunition. He slammed the cargo hatch of the back door as they approached, leaning against the car waiting for them.

His expression was closed and Sarah saw the first hints of high walls and reinforcements behind his eyes.

Sarah looked around as Cameron jumped down from the roof where she'd been reforming some dents that the car had taken when they were driving away from the fire. Machines were creatures of minute detail.

"Ready?" Cameron asked when she and Derek reached the car.

"Yeah," Sarah said, reaching inside herself for a smile as she tossed Cameron the keys. "You drive."

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The house looked much the same when they pulled into the driveway late that afternoon; a little more mail piled on the porch and a few too many lights on for this time of day but they had left in a hurry after all.

The car had barely come to a rolling stop when Sarah's hand closed over John's as he reached for the door handle. "Hang on a second, we need to make sure that it's clear."

John rolled his eyes in annoyance, but sat back, relaxing into the seat cushions all the same.

"Derek," Sarah called, as the dark sports car pulled up behind them in a cloud of dust. "Stay with John while Cameron and I check the house."

John saw him nod and walk over to the car, unceremoniously sliding into the drivers seat that Cameron had just vacated.

John sat stonily in the back seat as the silence stretched but it wasn't a bad silence; it was just the quiet of two men whose lives were filled with noise and madness taking a moment to savor the silence while it lasted. It was comfortable…and comforting.

"John," Derek sounded apprehensive as his hands fidgeted, eyes finally meeting Johns in the rear view mirror.

"I didn't tell you mother this, and you can't tell Cameron either, neither of them understands about what we're involved in now. But you do."

"It's kind of hard to miss," John said, for once without sarcasm or irony colouring his voice.

"And you believe that Cassie was a ghost right? And that they're not out to kill you?"

"She saved my life," John tried to ignore the prickling of his eyes and the way they stung. "She knew that Bion was a threat that we didn't know how to deal with and she watched and waited and when it made its move, she was killed trying to save my life….and we didn't trust her, we hurt her and interrogated her and refused to believe that she was on our side….and now she's gone and I have to live with that." He sighed, eyes hardening as he shouldered the burden of her death.

"But if you could do it over again," Derek asked, his eyes becoming feverish in the mirror as John noticed that his mother was coming out the front door, giving them the all clear sign. "Would you trust her?"

John's eyes locked on Derek's in the mirror, refusing to let go as if determination alone could make Derek believe him. "With my life," he turned, grasping the door handle and pulled, opening the door before getting out.

"Good. Because Ghosts can't be killed John, they're already dead." John stopped, a shiver running down his face, across his neck and chest to settle in a spot over one hip, near the sharp angle of his pelvis. "They didn't recover any bodies from the fire and it never got hot enough to remove all traces entirely. And I'm guessing that if she was watching you before then she wouldn't stop now; Cassie's close John, and she's very much alive."


	9. Chapter 9

SCC: Ghosts of the Future Ch. 9

John lay in bed, listening to the noises of the house at night and watching while the glow-in-the-dark-stick-on-stars on the ceiling in his room slowly faded from a bright green to a dim yellow and finally a barely distinguishable crème. He waited, hearing the footsteps circle past his door once more before stopping and he closed his eyes, feigning sleep as the rectangle of light from the hallway spread across his bed and Sarah opened his door, checking for the third time that night that he was still safe in his bed.

Most mothers grew out of that about the time their children started school if not before and John wondered if his ever would. For as long as he could remember she'd opened his door in the middle of the night to reassure herself that he was here, that he was breathing and alive.

The light slowly went out and John opened his eyes, listening as she walked the circuit of the top floor before going back to her room, the hall light flickering off. He waited, counting his heartbeats in the darkness, reaching one thousand before he rolled out of bed, sock feet making almost no noise on the floors. He shivered at the cold of the room after the warmth of his bed and briefly considered changing out of his boxers and tshirt but discarded the idea; it would take too long and Cameron, who he was sure was making the same rounds as his mother only downstairs, might get suspicious. Grabbing a black denim jacket of the chair he snuck into the hall, carefully turning the knob of the door to the attic and inching it open in case the old hinges squeaked. But it was silent and by the small amount of rust that stained the carpet outside the door he assumed that either Cameron or Sarah in their utmost efficiency had been up here to check for intruders that afternoon when they got home. For once thankful for their precautions, he pulled the door closed after him, negotiating the dark staircase by touch and feel.

It was a little lighter as he finally reached the top, arching and angled windows designed to fit into the eves letting in the moonlight. The room was filled with boxes of various sizes and shapes, a trunk pushed up against the far wall and some old furniture draped with moth holed cloths scattered around without direction.

John strained his eyes, looking into the shadows trying to make out a shape, a form of something that might be human…that might be a slim girl with liquid dark eyes and wavy hair.

A small scrabbling noise drew his attention to a window by the far wall, where the trunk was pushed up flush against the bottom ledge of the window. It sounded like nothing more then a pebble or stick sliding down the shingles, but something made John's heart beat just a little fast as he moved towards the window, looking out at the night through the glass.

At first he saw nothing but darkness, the twisting of tree limbs cutting through the stars. But then she shifted slightly, as if purposely revealing herself to him, and John distinguished Cassie's darker outline from the night sky.

He slid the window open, and it made a slight noise that made him wince as the glass pane rattled, loose in the frame. He looked back, waiting for someone to come up the stairs, the light to flash on and blind him, but nothing happened and so he swung his legs through the opening and crawled across the roof to sit, feet braced against the eves at the edge where Cassie waited.

"I thought you might be up here," he said, reaching for nonchalance to cover his relief that she was really here, really alive. It was only the cold that brought goosebumps to his skin that convinced him he wasn't dreaming. "Ghosts are supposed to haunt basements and attics after all, right?"

"Attics have better visibility," she said, smiling at him slightly and John saw the small burns that looked like snowflakes scattered across her cheekbone. He reached out to brush at one lightly and she pulled away, exposing a bandaged arm, her movements stiff with pain.

"I thought you died in the fire," he confessed, voice revealing more emotion then he meant to.

"Ghosts can't die, John; we're already dead." That was twice now he'd heard that phrase, once from his uncle in the bright sunshine of that afternoon and now on a chilly rooftop at night, but both times the words gave him a chill.

"What do you mean?" he asked, needing to know more….needing to know what he was going to demand of them….of her in the future. "What does it mean to be a ghost?"

He thought that she wasn't going to answer, hadn't answered him before when he'd asked and if Derek was right then ghosts would never talk to someone who wasn't one of them.

"To be a ghost is to die John," her voice the only sound in the night. "You leave behind everything you knew, everything familiar and safe…everyone who ever meant anything to you and you live in the shadow of their light…watching them fight and grow, love and die…but never with them. To be a ghost is to live a half life, sometimes you even begin to question if you're still really alive because you've killed so much that death has soaked into your soul, tainting every breath and thought and there's nothing to hold on to, nothing to give you purchase from the dark…" she look up at him, eyes turning away from the night like a moth drawn to a flame that lay within him. "You can't kill something that's only half alive to begin with, John."

He sat there beside her in silence, watching his breath fog in the chill air and reaching for something…anything to say, to let Cassie know that in some small way he understood, because if he had to put his own life into words it would have been the twin to hers. Always on the outside knowing that at any moment judgment day could come and fighting desperately to stop it, never able to tell any of the people who he was fighting for that he was doing it for them….they could never truly know him……running from the future and waiting watching everyone else have what he could not.

"It sounds lonely," John said finally, realizing the irony of him saying that someone else's life was lonely.

"Ghosts always haunt alone," she said, turning away again but he reached out, grabbing her hand that wasn't wrapped in bandages and holding on. Cassie deserved a real life as much as anyone but she was sacrificing it, turning away from any chance at happiness because he would force her to choose to protect everyone who had what she never could instead.

"It's okay John," she disentangled his hand from hers with soft efficiency. "Someone always needs to be the bad guy, that's why Connor founded the ghosts; we could do the dirty work that would get anyone else persecuted, we could be hated with impunity."

"That doesn't make it alright to forfeit your life, let them hate you so they can be safe!" he hissed the words between his teeth he was so angry, and swore that in the future the world would end before he would ask someone to give up their life like this again.

"John," Cassie turned, sorrow in her eyes as she touched his face, lifting it to make him look at her. "John, you don't know what it was like, there wasn't another choice….and I would do it again. We all would. Promise me John; you won't make any rash decisions until you've been there…until you've lived it."

"There's always another choice, no one should have to fight for a future they can't have."

She shook her head, and looked at him like her heart was breaking, "But John, everyone, all of us, are fighting for a future that doesn't exist….we're fighting for a dream."


	10. Chapter 10

SCC Ghosts of the Future; Ch. 10

John came down the stairs, feet dragging and rubbing sleep from his eyes from the late night. It was worth it though, after all, how many times do you get to hear about the future from someone's who's already lived it? And Cassie….Cassie, he smiled thinking about last night. She was so strong…so confident but there was something hurt that came through in her eyes that made him just want to hold her forever so she'd never be alone again.

He whistled under his breath as he walked into the kitchen, picking up a box of cereal and pouring it into a bowl.

Derek and Sarah exchanged a glance behind his back, puzzled at how he could flip from surly and depressed to what Sarah could only characterize as happy literally overnight.

"Morning John," Derek said, looking at him closely and catching a wink from his nephew. So he had been right after all….

"Sleep well?" Sarah asked, still trying to get a fix on John's mood this morning.

"Fine," he answered, taking note of the warning look in Derek's eye and remembering that his mom and Cameron both believe Cassie dead. Given their general warm welcome that last time she'd been in the house he thought it best not to mention that she'd stopped by again…at least not right now.

"Where's Cameron?" he asked, sitting down at the table and sprinkling a big spoonful of sugar onto his cereal; there were some good things about being the future all important leader of the resistance—no one harassed you if you wanted a little extra sugar boost to start the day.

"Out on patrol," Sarah answered, just as Cameron was thrown through the door, hitting the far wall and collapsing to the floor.

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Derek didn't think, he reacted, reaching for John and pulling him to the relative cover underneath the table while he heard shots fired and saw Sarah's legs take up a position on the other side of the table between them and the door where Bion stood.

Sarah watched in horror as the bullets were just absorbed into the terminators body, not causing even a small amount of damage or slowing it down.

"Get him out of here," she called back over her shoulder to anyone who might be listening as Bion reached her, its hand closing over her gun and crumpling it into a formless piece of metal. Sarah threw a punch at it in desperation, but it caught her hand, fingers closing over her fist making her cry out as bones shifted and scraped over each other.

She heard a window behind her break and prayed that it was Derek dragging John to safety. He was what mattered.

More gunshots rang out and Sarah looked up in surprise as the terminator let go of her hand, large holes appearing in its arm a few inches from her face, the metal curling up at the edges and not reforming.

"See, told you I'm a killer shot," Cassie said, coming into the kitchen and emptying her whole clip into Bion's body, each bullet forcing him back until he was out the door.

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Sarah watched in astonishment as Cassie pushed another gun into her good hand, tossing a bag of extra clips on the floor at her feet.

"Magnetized bullets," she explained reloading quickly and tossing another bag towards where Cameron lay behind them. "Everything else basically bounces off 'em….come on," she said starting towards the door and daylight beyond.

Sarah hesitated, looking back at where Cameron lay still unconscious on the floor and John and Derek were crouched under the table, Derek's body covering her view of John from the door.

"Sleeping beauty's got about another 90 seconds before she wakes up," Cassie commented, watching as Sarah looked back. "You can't run from it, it'll only find you again and you have no idea how to take it out."

Sarah made up her mind, shouldering the bag of ammunition and moving up behind Cassie, gun held ready.

"So how exactly do we kill it then?" she asked, there would be time enough to quibble over what Cassie was doing here later.

"Watch and learn," Cassie said, cocking her gun and sprinting out the door, already firing.

Sarah swore under her breath and followed.

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Cameron's eyes opened, taking in the fuzzy view of the kitchen from her angle on the floor and the noise of gunshots from outside…no time to run a diagnostic test now she got to her feet, noticing that her center of balance was slightly off she adjusted.

"Cameron," John pushed out from behind Derek, moving to her side.

"John" she said, eyes roaming over him assessing for damage. "You have to get out of here, Derek, taking him and go."

"I'm not going anywhere," John said, frustration leaking into his tone; why was everyone always trying to protect him. "I can fight my own battles," and grabbing the gun that Cassie had left for Cameron he ran out the door after her and his mother.

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"Shit!" Derek said, making a grab for John as he rushed past but his fingers barely brushed the fabric of his shirt.

"Come on," Cameron said, turning to follow. She couldn't protect him if she wasn't with him.

"Wait," Derek said, this time managing to catch her arm. "Our bullets won't touch it," he explained, grabbing the bag that Cassie had left on the floor and upending it, the contents spilling out; only one other gun and a few extra clips remained.

"I don't need bullets," Cameron stated, while Derek's hands scooped up the gun and shoved an extra round into each of his back pockets, their bulges looking like narrow packages of cigarettes in his jeans.

"Yeah," Derek said, refusing to let the machine out man him; "but I do. They must disrupt the metal from reforming, lets the bullets make a hole that doesn't just re-mould."

Cameron only looked at him, before walking to stand in the doorway while Derek pressed his back to the frame, not wanting to be caught by a stray bullet…magnetized or not it would still kill him just as surely as a normal one.

"You take the gun," she offered, moving out the door. "Get to John."

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"Its chip is lodged within its skull," Cassie panted, pulling back to reload while Sarah rhythmically fired her clip into the terminator. It was covered in holes and craters now but still wouldn't stop. They were only succeeding in keeping it in place and eventually they would run out of bullets.

"Tell me something I don't know," Sarah said, angling her gun to see how many shots she had left.

"You can't get to it the regular way because the metal will just reform around any wound you make," Cassie stepped in front of Sarah, covering her while she took the time to reload her own gun.

"Great," Sarah said, voice rich with sarcasm. "Then how do we get to it?"

"We don't," Cassie said. "I do, you almost ready?"

"Yeah," Sarah breathed, standing up just as John ran out the door and the terminator focused on him, turning away from her and Cassie.

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"Fuck," Sarah said, cursing John…when would he learn to run?! She jumped up, dashing forward only to be grabbed from behind and held fast. Sarah pivoted, bring up her elbow and slamming into Cassie's cheek but the girl didn't let go.

"Your son tried that one already," she said, rubbing at her face with one hand while still firmly holding onto Sarah with the other.

Sarah looked over her shoulder and saw that the machine was obsessed, focused only on John now that he was within its sights; John's bullets not holding it in place, it made slow progress closer and closer to where he stood.

"Damn you!" she swore, striking out at Cassie again, only to be met with the same stoic resistance as she'd encountered that first night.

"He'll be fine," Cassie said, and Sarah found herself relaxing slightly at the vow in the other girl's tone, the promise and surety in her eyes. "But you have to listen to me; the only way to get the chip is to pry it out with something magnetized that the metal can't reform around," Cassie pulled a knife from her belt, retrieving another from her boot and handing it to Sarah. "But that won't stop it entirely, the molten metal construction allows it to function for 240 seconds after the chip has been removed, even after that it will just liquidize and flow back together unless the chip is completely destroyed."

"How do we do that?" Sarah asked, pulling away frantic to get to John before it did.

"Bring it into contact with a powerful magnet, there's one upstairs; in the attic."

Sarah didn't even question how Cassie had gotten into their house, the minute her hand let go Sarah started running towards John.

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John was beginning to doubt if this had been a good idea…the machine seemed unstoppable and even the bullets that could damage it didn't seem to be doing much to keep it from slowly getting closer and closer to him. He retreated slowly, backing up with each shot fired, trying to keep the same distance between it and him until he walked smack up against the wall and couldn't go any further.

He pulled the trigger, glancing back to see his mother take a swing at Cassie before becoming too preoccupied with how many bullets he had left to think about anyone else. How many shots had he fired? He thought there were still two left….but as his finger squeezed the trigger and nothing happened he revised his doubts and thought that this was quite possibly the worst idea he'd ever had…and it was going to get him killed.

Bion was almost on top of him now and he looked left and right, frantically searching for a way out of this mess he'd gotten himself into when suddenly someone was beside him, bullets knocking the machine back a step…then two.

He looked over at Derek, his uncle clutching his sleeve in a fist so tight the blood looked drained from it, to ensure that John was not going to go running off again.

A second barrage of bullets hit Bion from the left, sending it staggering slightly and giving Derek the opening to get John out from their position pinned between the terminator and the wall. John saw his mom moving forwards closing the gap between them.

"Get out of here John,"

He was thinking that it might be a good idea when he saw Cassie, stalking up behind Bion only a knife in her hand.

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Cassie moved, keeping it between her and Connors, an effective metal shield from bullets that she wasn't all that sure Sarah wouldn't be aiming at her. Knife ready, she skimmed closer, now only a few feet from the machine. It was suicide, she knew it; you didn't take these things on with only a few magnetized pieces of metal but there was nothing else in this time that would help her.

Almost there, but its proximity sensors picked up her movement and it turned, hand molding into a long pointed spear to slice through her. Cassie lunged, ducking as she did so the metal tore a line along her arm, but she was behind it again, knife slicing through its scalp to reveal a large chip in the center of its skull where a human brain would be…

…..a movement from the group drew her attention and she saw John pull away from Derek, his shirt tearing as Derek refused to let go but he held only fabric now. John ran towards her, not shooting now because she would be in the line of fire, trying valiantly to distract Bion and make it come after himself rather then her.

She watched as one of its hands became a point again, angling long and sharp to drive through John's heart as soon as he got within range. There wasn't even another choice that came into her mind.

Cassie thrust her hand into the jagged cut she'd made in Bions' skull, hand closing over a small distinct piece of metal and holding on tight as she wrapped her other arm around its neck, pulling herself over its shoulder and between it and John. The metal point struck her in her stomach as she dropped down between then, feeling hard and cold as it sliced through her skin and muscle and bone before protruding out her back on the opposite side. She felt it slide from her body and fell to her knees as if it had been the only thing holding her up, and watched as the machine looked past her, point reforming need sharp and covered with her blood to where John stood alone half way between her and his guardians.

No…she thought, you have to be safe… but her vision was darkening and the last thing she heard was gunshots.


	11. Chapter 11

SCC Ghosts of the Future Ch. 11

Derek kicked open the door, hearing the hinges break as he rushed through it, Cassie clutched in his arms, far too much of her blood soaking into his clothing. He pushed what was left of the breakfast dishes onto the floor, spilling milk and half eaten cereal as he lay her onto the table top, holding her down as she reflexively woke up and curled in pain.

John was right behind him, skidding to a stop in the doorway before running over, grabbing a towel from the counter and trying to hold it to her stomach and stop the bleeding.

"There's a magnet in my bag in the attic, John. Get it." Cassie said, her voice emerging from between clenched teeth.

"What? Why?" he reached for another towel, just as a barrage of gunshots broke out from outside behind him and he looked out through the open door to see Bion get up, from where Cameron had thrown him and start advancing towards the house. Cameron and Sarah were laying down cover, bullets striking and embedding into the terminator's metal frame but not doing much to slow it down.

"The magnetized bullets won't last forever John," Cassie gasped, "hurry."

He ran, taking the stairs at two at a time…one flight…then down the hall…damn, he rattled the door to the attic, the knob sticking before giving way…another row of stairs and he was in the attic, the room looking entirely different by day with dust catching the sunlight and tiny motes drifting in the air. Cassie's bag lay on the trunk by the far wall, and he upended it in his hast, hands searching through the clutter before coming to a metal box about the size of his palm. He grabbed it and raced back down stairs, catching the doorframe into the kitchen to slow him down only to have Derek push him back hard into the other room.

"Run John!" he yelled, bringing up his gun and firing as Bion reached the back door to the kitchen and stepped inside.

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Sarah watched as it reached the house, praying that John had run and by now was out front in the car ready to drive away. She dropped the gun, not out of magic bullets yet, but Bion was too close to Derek and Cassie to risk using it anymore-she might hit one of them.

Only one option then, and Sarah took a breath, hoping that John knew how much she loved him, that she wished she could have stayed with him, but that she would always give her life to protect him. She braced herself, ready to try and fight the terminator off with her bare hands-- and be killed in the process-- to give Cassie the time she needed to kill this thing for good and stop it from coming after John ever again.

But Cameron grabbed her jacket just as she was about to attack, pushing her back into the dirt before jumping Bion, forcing him away from the door just as John re-appeared inside.

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John ignored Derek, getting to his feet and rushing back into the kitchen he stopped beside where Cassie lay, pale but still breathing on the table.

"Got it," he said, pulling the box out. "Now what?" He looked back over his shoulder but the terminator was gone and there was the sound of gunfire outside again.

Derek grabbed his shirt roughly, pulling him away. "Now nothing John, you run, we fight."

John shook free, watching as Cassie struggled to flip the clasp and open the box with one hand, blood smearing its surface.

"Bull," John shouted it in Derek's face, eyes darkening and daring him to try and push him. "You can't secure the door and help Cassie," he said, winning the point as Derek swore, letting go and taking up a post by the door, breathing hard and gun at the read for when Bion was done with Cameron.

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Cameron's leap had knocked Bion away from the door, but it sent her tumbling also, and it was still closer to the door then she was. She rolled, trying to get closer as Bion recovered, getting to his feet and walking back towards the kitchen again…towards John.

You're failing your mission! A voice that was vaguely familiar yelled in her head, passionately. You're here to protect John Connor, if it gets him then you fail!

Cameron reached, seizing its leg and holding on, holding it still, her body a dead weight refusing to let him move.

He turned, looking down, half its face riddled with bullet holes and shining metal, a parody of the human being it had so accurately modeled. It kicked her, hard and she felt the impact as her body dented under the blows, but she didn't let go.

It reached down, grabbing her and trying to pull her off, prying at her fingers and she watched as one by one they came loose…freeing it.  
It tossed her back, her body striking the side of the house and falling down, eyes registering static intervals inbetween clear imput that showed Bion moving towards the house again.

But Sarah was between it and the door, gun reclaimed and reloaded she fired steadily, making its head and torso even more of a mottled swiss cheese then it already had been. Bion ignored the bullets like they were nagging insects, catching Sarah by the throat and lifting her, fingers squeezing tight to cut off her air and snap her neck.

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"Shit!" Derek swore, abandoning the door and rushing outside.

John didn't let himself think about what was going on out there, it was enough that they were keeping Bion occupied, giving him and Cassie time and anything else…well…he could only help them one way now and that was by staying focused.

"Now what?" he asked, taking the box from Cassie's hand and flipping it open to reveal a medium sized black magnet that made the fridge rattle and spoons and forks from breakfast come flying at John. The metal door knobs started pulling the cupboards open and stray bullets from outside rolled in the door. When she said a powerful magnet would kill its chip, John didn't know she meant supernova powerful!

Just then Cassie screamed in pain and John jumped back as the metal of Bions' chip pierced through her closed fist, metal sharpening to a blade sticking through her hand before becoming liquid and trying to melt off.

Cassie clamped her other hand over it, only to have the metal again stab through her flesh, almost frantic in its attempts to return to Bions body.

"Give me the magnet!" Cassie yelled, and John dropped it into her open hand, watching as the blade of metal became molten again and then reformed into a chip on her palm, quivering but unable to morph and escape.

"Now John…hurry…" her voice sounded weak and as John took a step towards the table he slipped in her blood on the floor, streams running off the table and puddling on the tile. He picked up her knife off the table, using the sharp edge to pry open the chip, revealing the core inside and stabbing it with the knifepoint to pull it out. John lay the swirling metal core against the magnet in Cassie's hand, watching as it darkened and slowed finally stopping and melting to cover the magnet a dull and tarnished silver.

"You're safe now," Cassie said, her voice so quiet he could barely make it out. Her hands were shredded, but blood barely leaked from the gashes. "The future's safe now with you…" she reached out, thumb tracing the line of his cheek and fingers brushing his jaw before falling away to lay beside her still form on the table.

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Sarah saw the bright blue sky slowly replace the darkness in her vision and wondered for a moment if she was dead, but then she tried to move and felt pulled muscles and bruises that clearly meant life.

Hands helped her sit up, steadying her as she tried to speak, then winced, swallowed and tried again.

"What happened? Where's Bion?"

"I don't know," Derek said, arms strong around her. "He just kind of….melted…" he pointed past her to where a pool of metal lay in the grass, reflecting the sky above like an unnaturally still pond. Cameron stood beside it, and Sarah felt like she'd just fallen through the rabbit hole and nothing was as it should be.

"Where's John?"

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John stared, eyes unfocused looking at nothing….seeing nothing. It was so quiet…when had it gotten so quiet? And breathing was so hard…

"John?" Cameron…if she asked what was the matter with his eyes he might lose it.

"John…" his mother now, he heard the concern deepening her voice. "John, I'm sorry."

He jumped up, the sudden movement overbalancing the chair he had collapsed into and ran out of the room…only to be stopped and held in the doorway, unable to leave…unable to leave her alone. His fist struck the wall, leaving a smear of her blood on the wallpaper before he leaned his forehead against the wall, feeling wetness gather and obscure his vision.  
She'd watched over him, fought for him, bled for him…died for him. Always alone and without anyone to look to for comfort or support, friendship or love….he wouldn't let her be alone now too.

He felt Cameron come up behind him, but she didn't touch him and he didn't turn.

"We have to dispose of the body John."

The lump in his throat threatened to choke him, cut off his air and he tried and failed to keep the image of her hair mingling with the dirt, the worms crawling over her skin…he gagged, stifling it by hiding his head in his arm.

"We'll bury her tonight, while it's dark," Sarah proclaimed. "Cameron go find the shovels."

"No, we can't."

John looked up surprised, for a moment believing that the words had come from his mouth, unbidden. They were so close to what he was thinking…screaming on the inside of his mind. He looked at Derek, feeling sick as Derek met his eyes then looked away.

"We have to burn her. We can't take the chance that anyone might find her body." Derek looked up at Sarah, the one person who if he convinced might be able to make it happen. "She's from the future, there can't be any DNA evidence for anyone to find…ever; it's standard procedure," he lied, hoping that she didn't see the glaring hole of why they hadn't burned the other dead future resistance fighters they'd encountered.

Sarah narrowed her eyes, clearly questioning him but she didn't voice them, only motioned to Cameron to come with her and find fuel for the fire.

"John," Derek tried to find where to begin…how to explain that there was no other way that this could have ended but with her death, that it was the path that she'd chosen long ago…but he knew it wouldn't make any difference. John bore the scars of every death under his command, Cassie's wasn't even the first and it wouldn't be the last.

"Just get it done," John said, his voice sounding rough and broken as Derek left him alone, and the tears began to fall, intermixing with the blood on floor.

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John carried Cassie's body from the car to the clearing in the desert, trying not to see how much brighter the stars were tonight then they had been yesterday on the rooftop…God it was only yesterday…it felt like years ago and at the same time only minutes.

He made his hands lay her softly down into the cool sand, but couldn't stop himself from brushing a stray ring of curls off her face, noticing again the small burns that marked her skin.

He stepped back, jaw clenched as Sarah and Cameron sprinkled white phosphorous over her, the powder looking like fairy dust in the moonlight. He held out his hand for the flare that Derek was holding, blindly, his fingers closing over the tube as it was pressed into his palm.

_Ghosts don't die…ghosts don't die….ghosts don't die…_The refrain echoed over and over again in his mind as he lit the flare, its red light seeming intrusive when everything else was touched with grey and white.

He wanted her to jump up, to brush the sand and powder from her clothes and smile at him again….he wanted to be able to fix her and make everything alright, like before.

He looked up, meeting each of their eyes in turn….

Derek stood a respectful distance away, eyes revealing nothing, hiding everything and waiting to see if John would live up to be the great leader he was supposed to be.

Sarah looked back at him, wishing that she could keep him safe from this all, eyes reflecting his pain at what he must do….at who he must become, but she didn't step forward and carry the weight of the future on her shoulders for him.

Cameron stood beside him, and her eyes expected nothing from him; they didn't question and gauge, or condemn, they simply watched him. Constant. He drew strength from the surety of her, from the unwavering faith he saw in their depths….and dropped the flare, the fire casting a red hue over the desert and all of them, alone in the night.

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_*************Dedicated to English teaches who inspire their students,************* sit through draft after draft and question after question and read what must be a million spelling and grammar mistakes without ever so much as complaining. _

_Mrs. J, Mrs. B, and Mrs. A. I wouldn't even be able to write a sentence were it not for you let alone a story._

_***********_


	12. Chapter 12

SCC Ghosts of the Future; Epilogue

John Connor looked up from the report in his hands, fingers curling into a fist and crushing the paper before dropping it to the floor. God, he wished it was so easy to crush the machines, but every time he gained the slightest advantage they were two steps ahead of him, ready to turn his small victories into defeat.

"Bad news boss?" Reece, his second in command picked up the report, smoothing out the paper and handing it back to him.

"Theta squadron's not checking in," He didn't need to explain it to anyone who shared the command bunker with him, the only way a whole squad would fail to report in was if every single member was dead. It was happening far too often lately, whole groups of seasoned soldiers taken out practically overnight without a word getting out or any alarm being raised….he couldn't help but conclude that it was an inside job, that his people were beginning to turn against him, but he hated to think that anyone would willingly give in to the machines. He couldn't even really blame them though, after nearly a decade since Judgment Day it was hard for anyone to find the reserves of strength to continue the fight that it looked like they were slowly losing day by day.

And it wasn't just the deserters. Suicides were taking out at least a quarter of his company every year, and when the machines were capturing another quarter…even if they usually managed to retrieve a small portion of those it was never enough.

"Any news of Delta?" Reece asked cutting into his thoughts, concerned for his brother who lead that squad. Usually knowing Derek's particular obsession of rescuing others who had been taken by the machines, he was right in the thick of danger trying to get people out before they were moved to the camps.

"No news," John said briefly, "but in their case that's good news." He wished sometimes that he could allay Kyle's fears for his brother, let him know that Derek would live to be sent back into the past, back to guard John while he grew up, to become the father that he'd never had…but that would bring up too many ghosts that he wasn't prepared to face.

"I ran into some scouts from Alpha the other day," offered Bedell, and in his case he probably meant that literally! God he loved to run more then anyone else John knew....and if only he didn't know what he would give it up for, John might have been swayed by the blatant attempt to cheer him with some good news. "Allison's fine, holed up in the East Bunker doing surveillance."

"Good," John pasted a smile on his face that he knew wasn't fooling any of them. They knew him too well, his inner circle of commanders, to be fooled by a gesture that would comfort and reassure the regular infantry.

Back to business…John turned, pushing things that he couldn't do anything about to the back of his mind and reaching for a map that lay rolled and stacked on top of the pipes that lined the bunkers ceiling. His hands closing over the tube of paper when he heard a scuff from behind and automatically dodged, rolling to the side, taking the map with him and crushing it beneath him. A sting of fire scored his back where the sharpened metal blade would have pierced deep into his body if he had reacted only a moment slower.

A barrage of gunshots fired, leaving a bloody smear on the wall as the commander of gamma squad, just having reported in that morning, fell against back against it and then to lie still and unbreathing on the dirt floor.

Reece was by his side in an instant, hands pressing his jacket to the wound that was little more then a scratch while everyone stood in silence, shocked.

Michael was one of them…right from the beginning. How could someone who had encouraged John so many times when he felt as if giving up be laying on the floor in his own blood, a traitor to both his friends and the cause?

"String it up outside," a voice said harsh and scratchy with fury from behind him. "Show the other traitors what happens to people who turn against their own kind." Others moved to follow the orders, the same vehemence in their eyes and movements as they kicked and dragged the body of their dead comrade out of the bunker.

"No," John said, getting shakily to his feet.

"John," Martin, said, putting a hand on his arm in friendly commiseration. "We all know how you feel about it, but we need to send some kind of a message…this can't keep happening John, it was too close to look the other way this time."

"I know," he confessed, shaking his head. "But this isn't the way, this will only drive more people away and make me look like a tyrant when we need something to unite us, to keep us going."

"So what then?" someone else said, they were always turning to him for answers, for guidance and leadership…

"Burn him," he said the resolve of command settling into his voice. "Tell no one but his family what happened here…conference suspended until tomorrow dawn."

John waited while they all filed out of the room, standing straight and tall as he rubbed the creases from the map and spread it out over the table with unseeing eyes. The door shut behind them with a metal clank and for a second it sounded like the killing chamber door closing on him.

He was losing. He couldn't deny it any longer and if he didn't come up with something fast he wouldn't have anything left to salvage. He needed to bring people together, give them a reason to keep fighting and believe that they could win against the insurmountable odds they faced….he needed something for them to believe in and it wasn't him anymore. They'd seen his flaws and while they didn't condemned him for them, they meant he was merely mortal and didn't inspire the faith they needed to risk their lives, and the lives of their families day in and day out…. he needed a hero without blemish to do what needed to be done but that he couldn't do and still hold the people's trust.

Eventually the smell of smoke and distinctive tang of burning bodies that always reflexively brought bile up in his throat, broke through his melancholy fog and he gathered his resolve to face the world and watch a man who had just tried to kill him be burned with honor. He stepped outside, the grey haze of midday barely noticeable as a difference from the lamps inside.

People ringed a large fire in the center of the compound, the ground surrounding it blackened and scorched from too many previous uses of this kind to remember. John pushed his way through the crowd, or not so much pushed as walked and people respectfully moved out of his way; he was John Connor after all, Leader of the Human Resistance, for however short a time it may endure.

At the front of the circle, closest to the fire stood a girl, her dark hair curling from the heat of the fire and John watched as the sparks of the pyre rose up in the wind to rush and settle around her feet in a shower of what looked like stardust. She couldn't have been more then six or seven, but she didn't jump back in fear, her eyes remained transfixed on the flames.

"His daughter," John recognized Reece's voice at his left shoulder and wasn't even surprised to find that his second in command was dogging him. They'd all be looking at each other with suspicion after today, and watching him more closely since any presumed friend could be a foe in disguise.

John stepped forward, feeling the heat of the fire grow to suffocating proportions as he reached the girl and knelt down to be at her level.

"I'm sorry," he said, wishing for what wouldn't be the last time that he had died and her father had lived to protect her, love her and fight for her future.

"That's what they said when mama was taken," her voice high but perfectly composed soared above the roar of the fire. "It doesn't bring them back." Her words told him everything that he needed to know; Michael's wife must have been taken by the machines on one of their raids…he probably hadn't been able to live with not being there to protect her and had transferred his hatred of himself to John…for not being enough to protect them all. Why else would he have basically committed suicide by trying to kill John in the middle of a camp of his most loyal troops? Even if Michael had succeeded, he still would be dead, shot down just the same.

"What's your name?" he asked this strangely remote and reserved child who stood with him while the fire burned down to ashes and everyone else eventually left.

She looked at him with molten dark eyes that were stretched large in her small face, the smoke causing them to fill with tears that she refused to let fall. On of side of her face, red welts from the sparks of the fire dotted her cheek, and he reached out to brush one way, but she dodged, his fingers barely skimming her skin. He knew in that moment that she would never speak to him again, not if he asked until his voice went horse, pleaded and cajoled, or threatened and struck her. She would be as silent as the grave her father now was denied, forced by necessity to be burned and released to haunt the sky rather then rest in peace below the earth.

John stared into her eyes, so dark and deep you could get lost in them and she only a child…what would she be like in ten years? In twenty? He wondered, mind adding height to her short figure, giving her a woman's curves and slim build, but retaining the burnished amber hair that curled around her shoulders and eyes that hinted at something he so desperately wanted to believe in.

He held out his hand to the girl, feeling the first stirrings of remorse as she put her small hand so trustingly into his and he walked her away from the smoldering coals of her father's pyre.

A ghost voice echoed in his mind…

…._'promise me John….'_

"I want to tell you a story…." He said, taking a deep breath and gathering his courage.

",,,Once upon a time there was a ghost called Casper and he was all alone, just like you. But on the very day that he died, that his life ended, he met three other ghosts who became his uncles and took him in and gave him a new life, taught him how to survive as a ghost in this world and how to do what needed to be done…..

"….What do you know about Ghosts my little Casper….my Cassie."

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Fin

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_WRITERS NOTE: Sometimes a story just takes you where it wants to go and you get dragged along for the ride and don't have much say in the matter. Well, that's what happened here. I didn't have any plans to continue in the TSCC fic world when I started writing (as per my original note), but some sections of this story just scream to be delved into in greater depth! _

_So, a companion story is forthcoming….not quite sure what the title will be or when it'll be up, but if you liked this fic, then keep an eye out for it! It will be set in the future…explaining more of the history of the Ghosts and Cassie, and John's fight to keep the resistance together in the future. _

_Also if you liked this fic (and I seriously cannot stress this enough) PLEASE REVIEW!!!_

_I really like to hear your comments, it's first of all fun to hear what you think, what plot or scenes worked for you or didn't and also it makes me a better writer…..so whether they're "awesome job!" or "stop writing you horrible hack you're butchering the characters!" or something and anything in between, please comment!_

_Thanks as always for reading! ~Xan_


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